


The Strange and Expensive Courtship of Darcy Lewis

by emma98



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bucky is all aboard for this plan, Darcy has a specific skill set: buying things, F/M, M/M, Multi, Steve is terrible at asking her out so he breaks things instead, WinterShieldShock - Freeform, mostly humorous fluff, some insecurity, some misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7833964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma98/pseuds/emma98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis has had a very special skill set from a very early age.  SHIELD's fancy name for it was acquisition.  Simply put Darcy can obtain those hard to find items that people need.  Stick of gum in the middle of class?  A laptop in the middle of the New Mexico desert?  A super-soldier proof alarm clock?  Darcy can find it for you.</p><p>Steve starts to make use of Darcy's skill set early.  And then, he just keeps on breaking things and needing new ones.  </p><p>When Bucky comes in from the cold, well, that's two super soldiers to buy things for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing around with this, my first foray into Wintershieldshocky goodness for about a month or maybe more. Thanks to Briony-Larkin for the cheerleading to get this up eventually. It will be a two-parter and I hope to post the second part tomorrow if it's ready.
> 
> Please note the rating is Teen and up for language only.

**The Strange and Expensive Courtship of Darcy Lewis**

 

* * *

  


Darcy Lewis had always been good at acquiring things.  When she had been a four year old in the crowded children’s home in Ohio, she had always managed to obtain a bag of plain M&M’s for the newest arrivals who had lost their parents or gotten ‘ _returned to sender_ ’ from foster care.  Once school began, if you wanted a stick of gum, a tampon, a deck of cards...you went to see Darcy Lewis.  Her friends had told her she was like the thirteen year old version of Mary Poppins, with her well worn, duct-tape repaired backpack.  If someone had a request, she’d dig around and inevitably come up with what was needed.

 

Darcy brought this invaluable skill into high school, college and beyond.  It was on her internship with Jane, after SHIELD had taken everything the brilliant astrophysicist had worked on out from under her, that her particular skill set had been witnessed by one very important person (in his own mind at least).

 

“They took---they took my particle accelerating transmogrification sublimator!” Jane stomped her feet angrily.  

 

“Now you’re just making names up,” Darcy accused with as much forced cheer as she could.  She could see tears forming in her boss/friend’s eyes and she sighed.  Jane was an angry crier  The angrier she got, the more tears would leak out of her eyes.  

 

The slightly shorter intern opened the door to the Winnebago and reached up, pulling out a travel pack of kleenex and a half drunk bottle of Jack Daniels.  Jane sniffled in vitriol but took what Darcy gave her, wiping at her eyes, then the snot running from her nose before taking a long pull off of the bottle.  

 

“What are we gonna do?” Jane lamented before taking another pull off the bottle.  

 

“Don’t worry Janie, we’ll figure something out,” Darcy insisted.

 

The tissues and the alcohol were nothing, really.  Before SHIELD pulled him back to base, he saw her procure out of nearly thin air, a pizza, a set of blankets, another bottle of clear liquid for the older man with the ladies, and most impressively, a laptop.  

 

Clint Barton had been surprised.  She must have had it hidden somewhere so well that a crew of two dozen SHIELD operatives hadn’t found it even when they had been given the pillage order.  Nothing that the little trio of unfortunate scientists (both hard and soft) could have used to do any actual work was to be left behind.

 

Clint had admired her grit and talent so much from afar that he didn’t even bother telling Coulson when he returned to base.  He didn’t get the chance to do much about it, as events quickly escalated, but after the dust had settled and the big blond dude had rainbow hopped into the sky, Clint watched from afar as the little intern kept on obtaining those important little things that her astrophysicist needed.

 

He couldn’t wait to tell Tash about the little lady who seemed to have a natural talent for acquisition.

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha knew her by reputation.  Weeks later, she stood shoulder to shoulder with a deeply depressed Clint, staring at a headstone that had the name _Phillip Coulson._ She heard a light footfall about fifteen feet away and turned to look at whoever had stumbled upon the two of them.  Clint barely looked but huffed out in surprise.

 

“You can’t try to dig out the body to get your ipod,” he said simply.  Phil had complained about how much Darcy had called in the last few weeks about the ipod full of eclectic and seemingly random music.

 

Natasha immediately knew who the girl was then.  She gave a respectful nod as Darcy dug into a well worn, tattered bag and pulled out a little toy, a little soldier play figure decked out in red, white and blue.  She placed it next to a bouquet of sunflowers and patted the toy soldier on the head.  

 

“Vintage?” Natasha wondered.

 

“Yep,” Darcy nodded.

 

“How’d you get it?” Clint shook his head in disbelief.  He’d teased Phil plenty about his Captain America paraphernalia obsession and the bucket loads of money he must have spent on it.  “Kid, that thing must have cost a fortune.”

 

“Nah, not if you know where to look,” Darcy promised.  

 

Natasha surveyed the girl carefully before stating in a pleasant enough tone, “I’m in the mood for a fastnacht.”

 

“Powdered sugar or honey?” Darcy wondered, the answer of obvious importance to her.  

 

“There is no other way to eat them but with honey,” Natasha answered confidently.

 

“Excellent,” Darcy smiled.

 

Fastnachts were delivered to Natasha’s hotel room that very night, no less than five hours later by room service, warm and with a little pot of honey right next to them, ready to be poured over.  Natasha smiled and made one call that would change Darcy’s life forever.

 

* * *

 

 

When Pepper Potts offered you a job personally, you took it.  

 

It came with conditions.  Darcy would still be able to assist Jane in day to day living.  She would just have to spend a few hours a week doing this other little thing on the side that Pepper Potts asked her to do.  It helped that it was something she was super good at.  

 

Buying stuff.  

 

For the Avengers.

 

Bruce Banner needed tea that hadn’t actually been _produced_ in the last two years.  So Darcy found it for him and bought it.

 

Steve Rogers needed a specific lantern that had been used during World War Two by allied forces for his cabin in the woods that he was spending a few months at after the Chitauri attack.  So Darcy had it delivered to him by a Stark-drone three hours after he had requested it.

 

Clint’s post Loki-recovery hinged on having a complete set of Garbage Pail Kids trading cards.  Darcy made it happen.

 

Soon, it wasn’t only the hard to find items.  After London and returning back to Stark Tower with Thor and Jane, Darcy began acquiring more things.  Furniture for all of the newly renovated Avengers’ living spaces.  Enough popcorn to satisfy Thor and Barton on movie night.  That really disgusting black licorice hard candy that Tony had to have when he was in a brainstorming mood.  Holiday gifts for all of the staff at Avengers’ Towers.  An apartment and furniture for Steve Rogers when he finally settled and landed in DC.  

 

Darcy was a professional shopper now and she loved every minute of it.

 

* * *

 

An interesting thing happened two weeks after Steve moved into his apartment in DC.  Darcy received her first ever phone call from the First Avenger only three weeks after having met him for a consultation on what he’d like in his new apartment.  

 

“Captain America?” Darcy questioned as she picked up the phone.  

 

“Hi Miss Lewis!” came the rushed and too bright greeting.  “Please uhm---please call me Steve.”

 

“Hi, Steve,” Darcy answered back warily.   “What can I do for you?”

 

“I broke my alarm clock you got me, and uhm, Natasha said that, well, you could find a stronger one for me?” Steve’s words were still rushed and half mumbled, but Darcy got the gist of it.

 

“Sure can do, Steve,” Darcy nodded, pulling up her trusty old laptop and quickly finding a stronger alternative.  “It’s on its way.”

 

“Wow, thanks so much!  So---uhm. How are you?” Steve wondered.

 

“Peachy keen, jelly bean,” Darcy promised.  “How are you settling in? Is Dread Pirate Fury keeping you busy?”

 

Steve huffed out a small laugh.  “Yeah, yes.  I’ve been plenty busy.  And I’m settling in fine.  The apartment is really nice.  You did a really great job of finding what was absolutely perfect for me.”

 

“It’s my superpower,” Darcy whispered to him, getting another laugh.  

 

“LEWIS HELP!  I NEED SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR PEPPER! I WAS AN ASSHOLE!”

 

Steve snorted with laughter that time at Tony’s panicked shouting he could hear over the phone.  

 

“Okay, let me know if I can do anything else for you, Steve.  Have a good night!”  Darcy chirped before hanging up the phone.

 

“Good night, Darcy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve Rogers was turning out to be one of the most difficult nuts to crack, acquisition wise.  First the alarm clock.  Then somehow the microwave broke.  Then the coffee table.  Then his ceiling fan had smacked him in the head and Darcy was tasked with finding one that wouldn’t clip his giant, patriotic dome.  She’d added his contact in her phone as _the destructicon_ and laughed when the name would pop up every other day for the next three months, depending on missions.

 

“What’d you break this time, Steve?” Darcy wondered cheerfully enough.  

 

“Hey, I’m not that clumsy,” Steve defended himself, the sheepish grin audible over the phone.

 

“You broke your coffee maker two days ago by pressing the button too hard,” Darcy reminded him.  “I had to reinforce the new one in Tony’s lab while he was busy.”

 

“Busy but not in his lab?” Steve wondered.

  
“I may have distracted him by sending Pepper her favorite Belgian chocolates in his name,” Darcy shrugged.  She sat down on a cushy armchair in the Tower’s common room, reaching for her cup of coffee and blowing on it before taking a sip.  “So what can I do for you today, Steve?”

 

“Uhm, coffee?” Steve wondered.

 

“I’m drinking some right now...the real good stuff,” Darcy laughed.  

 

“I’m drinking some too,” Steve admitted.  

 

“But you need...more?” Darcy wondered.

 

Steve sighed heavily.  

 

“Steve?” Darcy wondered.

 

“Uhm, there was this coffee that this bar in England had back in the 40’s.  It was like motor oil, really.  But I had a sort of craving for it the other day and Natasha said that if anyone could find it, then you could,” Steve said quickly, his words rushed and mashed to the point of incoherence once more.  

 

“Hmmm...that’s a tough one,” Darcy admitted.

 

“Nevermind, just, if you’re busy---”

 

“Steve, I didn’t say no.  I said it would be tough and a challenge and I’m the kind of girl who can appreciate tough and a challenge,” Darcy admitted.  “So let me gather some samples, and I’ll send them to you.”

 

“Oryoucouldcomeandvisitme,” the words were so rushed that Darcy really didn’t understand them.  He sighed again, as if he were annoyed with himself and said, “Or I could come up to New York.  Stark had said he was working on some kind of new magnetized gauntlet system for my shield.”

 

“Oh, sure, yeah, we’ll see what your schedule looks like when I’ve gathered suitable motor oil supplies,” Darcy nodded.  “So really, how is DC?  Is Natasha and the Strike team of douche lords being nice to you?”

 

“Yeah, it’s not so bad,” Steve chuckled.  “Although your description of the Strike team is pretty accurate.”

 

“Not exactly the kind of guys you want to spend your down time with,” Darcy nodded, taking another sip of her coffee.  “Next time you see Rollins, ask him how his elbow is feeling.”

 

“I think there’s a story there, Darcy,” Steve’s smile could be heard over the phone.

 

“Why yes, yes, there is a story involving me and Jane in London, and him keeping my poor baby intern locked up in a holding cell for over forty-eight hours.  Let’s just say, with the state of Rollins’ elbow, he’s not gonna be playing tennis any more.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Darcy had finally ferreted out five different kinds of coffee, along with instructions on how to prepare it to motor oil consistency, it was three weeks later, and she had signed out one of the company cars (not the Porsche, Tony, but thanks anyway) and made the harrowing trip down to DC, stopping off somewhere in Pennsylvania for shoo-fly pie and an overnight stay.  No one on the East Coast had proper driving etiquette, really and she didn’t feel like making the five hour trip in one go.  And this way she got to pick up a few more things for Steve’s apartment, namely the very old fashioned coffee mugs from an antique market in Pennsylvania.  She arrived at Steve’s apartment, mid-morning the next day, hoping to surprise him.

 

She had not been expecting the burning wrecks of three helicarriers in the bay along with a city in shambles and Steve’s apartment cordoned off with police tape.  

 

She looked down at the phone she had silenced during the drive down and saw she had seventy missed calls and over a hundred new text messages.

 

“Darcy?” Pepper questioned when the phone finally picked up.

 

“Uhm, hey, what happened?  I just took a trip to Amish country and now I’m here at Steve’s apartment and---oh god, that’s blood.  Is Steve alright? Where is he?” Darcy could feel the panic tingling in her chest.  

 

“He’s alright, well...he’s lucky.  He’s in the hospital,” Pepper explained.

 

“But---I brought him coffee,” Darcy squeaked out.  Clint had always told Darcy that Steve was damned near invincible.  It must have taken a lot for him to be put in the hospital.  

 

“Our security detail is focused there, I need for you to go to the hospital, just in case.  You’re going to be looking for a man named Sam Wilson,” Pepper said in a tone that left no room for argument.  “Now, Darcy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sam had liked Darcy instantly when he had mentioned that an iphone dock would be useful while they waited for Steve to wake up.  She’d gotten him one in less than five minutes.  They took turns sitting by Steve’s bedside, the man who had just met him and the woman he had talked to on the phone every other day for the last three months and only met in person twice.  

 

Sam gave her the rundown on what had happened, including the fact that Bucky Barnes wasn’t quite as dead as everyone had thought him to be.  She’d left Sam an hour before Steve started to wake, mumbling _On Your Left_.  The super serum worked wonders, because Steve was sitting up and talking easily when Darcy returned and stood in the doorway.

 

“Darcy?” Steve questioned, looking at her with impossibly wide, surprised eyes.  

 

“I wanted it to be a surprise...I found your coffee,” Darcy revealed.  

 

“Are you alright?” his eyes were darting over her from head to foot repeatedly, scanning for any kind of injury.  

 

“I’m okay, I got here way after,” she promised.  “Are _you_ alright?”

 

“I’m okay,” Steve said automatically.  

 

Sam had been watching their interaction with interest and he realized for one split second that he had a chance with the Black Widow if Steve was halfway in love with the short, curvy brunette standing in the doorway.  He’d been worried that Steve and Natasha may have been a thing, but apparently, the little cartoon hearts beaming out of Steve’s eyes at Darcy quashed that theory.  The hearts were soon accompanied by Steve’s jaw dropping and his actual heart beating out of his chest like that wolf from old school cartoons, complete with requisite sound effects as Darcy turned into the hallway and pulled up Captain America’s shield.

 

“You lost this?” Darcy wondered.  

 

“How’d you---” Sam wondered.

 

“She’s got a special skill set,” Steve repeated what Natasha had told him when he had gone to his friend for help in getting settled into DC.  “A very special skill set.”

 

“I wrestled a pelican for this,” Darcy joked.  

 

“Huh,” Sam nodded, getting up and going for the door as Darcy stepped inside fully.  “I’m going to go home and shower.  It’s your turn to watch the invalid, Lewis.”

 

“Thanks, Sam,” Darcy put the shield down and waved off Steve’s friend.  She walked slowly towards Steve’s bed and gave him a small, tentative smile.  “So---are you really okay?”

 

“I’m---I think,” Steve furrowed his brow.  “Bucky’s alive.”

 

“So I hear,” Darcy nodded.  They hadn’t talked much about Bucky in their many conversations.  Just that he used to be the most important person in Steve’s life.  And Darcy strongly suspected that their relationship went a few levels past platonic friendship just from hearing the way Steve talked about him.  “Steve, what can I do for you---to make this better for you?”

 

“Can you find him?” Steve asked suddenly, his eyes full of tears that hadn’t found their way out with Sam.  He reached out and grabbed her hand as she offered it to him.  “You’re so good at finding things---can you find him for me?”  


“He’s not really something I can look up on ebay or the black market,” Darcy whispered.  She squeezed his hand, “But I promise you, I will do everything in my power to help you.”

 

“He’d a loved you,” Steve said softly, his words suddenly sounding drowsy and mumbled.  “S’gonna love you.  Gonna give me hell about draggin’ mah feet.”

 

Darcy gave him a puzzled look as he drifted off once more, still gripping her hand in his.  She tried to pull the chair closer to the bed so she could sit, but couldn’t manage the distance.  Instead, she sat herself on his bed, her free hand running through his hair as she looked down at him with about a million questions and absolutely no answers.

 

* * *

 

 

 _We’re in Istanbul and Sam wants deep dish pizza...help_.

 

_Where can I find and or steal this painting from, someone wants it in exchange for information._

 

_I need something to explode a really heavy metal door apart and I need for it not to be traced back to me, how do I do that?_

  


Steve texted Darcy from the road with Sam for the next three months.  And it wasn’t always requests for her to put her skill set to good use.  But when it came to the emotional stuff, she’d get a call from an unknown number and answer it, no matter what time of the day it was and what she was doing.  When Steve was dead tired and ready to give up on the search for Bucky, he only wanted to hear her voice and have her tell him about the silly gossip from around Avenger’s tower.  

 

It was one of those calls from an unknown number one night in September that had Darcy abandoning a tray full of hot cookies in Thor’s thankfully indestructible hands before diving for her phone and picking up after the second ring.

 

“Hey!” she said breathlessly.  “I thought you were on a plane and wouldn’t be able to talk for six hours. Not that I’m complaining, it’s always good to hear from you.”

  


Silence greeted her and Darcy furrowed her brow.  “Steve?”

 

“Tell him to stop chasing me.”

 

“Uhm...who is this?” Darcy wondered, spinning in a circle before finally looking to one of JARVIS’ security cameras and finger spelling some words in the sign language that Clint had taught her one rainy Sunday afternoon.   _Find out where the call is coming from_.

 

“You know who I am, doll,” the gravelly voice accused.  “Tell him---tell him to stop.”

 

“I can’t do that, Sergeant Barnes,” Darcy said softly.  Thor’s eyes widened and his hand reached out to call for Mjolnir.  

 

“Bucky,” he said gruffly.

 

“Bucky,” she repeated.  “Steve wouldn’t listen to me anyway---he, I’m just an assistant who buys him stuff that he needs.”

 

“That’s a load of bull,” Bucky accused.

 

“How did you get my number?” Darcy wondered.

 

“You’re the only one he calls,” Bucky revealed.  “Tell him that he should leave me alone if he knows what’s good for him.”

 

“Bucky,” Darcy said softly.  “Steve wants to help you.”

 

“There’s no help for me, tell him to come home to you and stop dragging his feet,” Bucky ordered before terminating the call.  

 

“JARVIS?” Darcy called out.

 

“Sergeant Barnes seems to be using a call displacer,” JARVIS announced.  “Luckily, his outdated Hydra tech can be broken.  It will take approximately seven more minutes for me to lock down the location of the call.”

 

Mjolnir busted through one of Tony’s supposedly shatter-proof glass windows                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               and into Thor’s hands.  He saw that Darcy’s hands were shaking and gave her a hopeful smile.

 

“We shall bring him home,” Thor promised.  “Your man will be pleased with the other piece of your triad being returned.”

 

“Huh?” Darcy looked at Thor strangely.

 

“You are destined for a happy triad match, Lady Darcy,” Thor told her with a big smile.  “Fandral could sense it from the minute he first met you, he had hoped to steal you away himself, but knew it was not meant to be.”

 

“Uhm, okay, big guy,” Darcy nodded, not anywhere near convinced of anything that had come out of his mouth.  She ran to the closet and grabbed blindly for a jacket warm enough for her to zip through the night sky with Thor and her fingers grasped the buttery soft leather of Steve’s brown bomber.  She slid it on and pushed the sleeves up before jamming her feet into sneakers.  She grabbed her phone and a weapon from her hidey hole in the lowest cabinet next to the refrigerator (it was there thanks to Natasha’s orders, you never knew when you would have to resort to violence in order to protect your food when you lived with Avengers).  Thor had managed to pop his mission comm unit into his ear and about a dozen of the cookies into his mouth that Darcy had been baking with him.

 

“Coordinates are being relayed to all available Avengers as well as Captain Rogers.   I will direct you, Prince Thor,” JARVIS announced.  

 

Thor had taken her flying once before, and it had been quite nice.  Tonight was different though.  The air was cooler and getting even worse as they zipped up the Atlantic coast towards Maine. She was clinging to her friend, trying to absorb some of that overly abundant body heat as she shivered in Steve’s jacket.  

 

Thor began his descent, and Darcy could see the small cabin just barely lit up in the woods, the smell of old, dry wood burning filling her nostrils as Thor urged her to take cover by pressing her head into his chest.  He crash landed through the cabin feet first, and Darcy earned one small scratch against her cheek for her troubles before she felt Mjolnir whip beside her ear and land with a clatter against a metal palm, bringing Bucky down to the floor and pinning him there.

 

“Friend, we come in peace,” Thor promised.

 

“Most people don’t toss hammers at a guy peacefully,” Bucky said sourly.  He glared openly at Darcy and said, “I told you to keep him away and you come rushing in?  You an idiot or something?”

 

“Yeah,” Darcy shrugged.  “I’m a Hufflepuff.  We’re really exceptional finders.  And you’re the white whale of good finds.”

 

“What the hell is this thing?” Bucky demanded as he struggled to get out from under the hammer.

 

“That’s Mew-mew, be nice,” Darcy said with surprising cheerfulness.  She gave him a sideways, appraising look.  He looked rough and tired.  The stubble had gone just one shade past sexy into almost lumberjack territory, and there were dark shadows underneath his bright blue eyes.  “You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky.”

 

“I could hurt you,” he looked away, full of disgust with himself.  “I hurt all those people, all of his friends.  Don’t want to hurt you.  You’re important to him.”

 

“Lady Darcy is protected, first and foremost by her own formidable and prodigious skill,” Thor promised.  

 

Darcy walked over to the lone coffee table in the ruined cabin and picked up the phone that Bucky was using.  Not even password protected.

 

“You’re really confident that you wouldn’t get caught, huh?” Darcy swiped through his phone and came upon what she had suspected.  There was a program that was giving him everything Steve got, including incoming and outgoing calls.  He’d read everything and heard everything Steve had been saying to her.  “You’re a nosy one.”

 

Before Bucky could reply, there were two things that happened very quickly.  The sound of a quinjet was roaring above them and Darcy’s (and Bucky’s) phone began ringing with an incoming call from Steve.  Darcy answered with both phones before tossing Bucky’s to his free hand.  

 

“Hi Steve,” Darcy greeted happily.  

 

“Darcy?  What is JARVIS talking about?  You found him, and went after him? Are you okay?  Where are you? Are you---please, are you okay?!?” Steve’s voice was getting louder and more desperate with every word.

 

“I”m peachy.  Thor and I are in Maine visiting a friend, say hi friend,” Darcy ordered cheerfully.

 

“Wha---”

 

“Stevie.”

 

Bucky’s soft muttering of the name had Steve choking on his own word, painfully inhaling in shock.

 

“He’s been spying on you, like a spying spy that spies,” Darcy tattled.

 

“Buck, are you alright?  Please, keep it together, we’re going to be there in about an hour.  Darcy and Thor are friends, they’re gonna help you,” Steve promised.  

 

“Head back to the tower,” Clint’s voice broke into the conversation suddenly.

 

“Dude, why can everyone hack into your phone?” Darcy wondered.

 

“Stark gave it to him, didn’t tell him he built in the backdoor to listen in,” Clint explained nonchalantly.  “We’re coming in.  Thor, you got the transport of our guest?”

 

“Yes, of course,” Thor promised.  He reached down for Mjolnir and pulled it off of Bucky before extending an arm to help up the good Captain’s man.  

 

When Bucky reached out with a metal hand and grabbed Thor by the shoulder, yanking him and throwing him across the room, Thor had the very real urge to throttle him, whether he was the final piece of Darcy and Steve’s triad or not.  He watched for a split second while Bucky advanced on Darcy, all snarling anger.

 

“He’s looking alive there,” Clint announced for those that couldn’t see into the Thor sized hole in the cabin’s roof.

 

“Bucky, no!” Steve shouted.

 

“He always did like the brunettes,” Bucky said softly, advancing on Darcy slowly.  “I can’t go back with you, doll.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“That makes two of us,” Darcy nodded.  She pulled her taser out of Steve’s jacket and let loose, sending Bucky twitching to the ground.  “That was a Thor-sized charge.  He should be out for maybe ten minutes if we’re lucky.”

 

* * *

 

 

He was out for longer than ten minutes.  Apparently the jolt to the system was what he needed to finally sleep for the first time in weeks, and he remained sleeping on their trip back to Avenger’s tower and was still sleeping when Steve arrived to the private medical facility that Bucky had been taken to.  Darcy was curled up against Natasha’s thigh, catching a quick nap when Steve ran up to them outside of Bucky’s room.  

 

“What were you thinking?” Steve demanded in a whisper, dropping to his knees in front of where Darcy slept.  He went to reach for her, but found that he couldn’t make himself disturb her sleep.  He gave a smirking Natasha a rueful look and said, “She could have been killed.”

 

“She wasn’t,” Natasha shrugged.  “And you have your Bucky back now.  I would advise you thank her properly for her greatest acquisition yet.”

 

“Yeah...I will,” Steve nodded.  “I will.”

 

He traced her jaw with his index finger lightly before getting up and going for Bucky’s room.  Bucky had been out for five hours at that point, but his eyelids began to flutter the moment Steve walked into the room.  

 

“Bucky,” Steve said softly.  

 

“Get the name of that truck that hit me?” Bucky rasped out. “Your girl plays dirty.  And she’s a brave little shit.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, voice soft and full of feeling.

 

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed. He finally looked up at Steve with mournful eyes and his voice was strained when he managed to softly say, “M’sorry.”

 

“Don’t,” Steve rushed across the room and dropped to his knees again, this time by Bucky’s bedside.  “We all know what they did now, the whole world does.  It’s not your fault.”

 

“To-may-toe, to-mah-toe,” Bucky whispered.  He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly when Steve’s hand pushed his hair back and then let his palm drift over his cheek.  “It’s all still in my head.  They have safeguards.  I gotta stay away from them.”

 

“We’ll find people to help,” Steve insisted. “Money’s not an object here, don’t know if anyone’s told you, but you’re the world’s longest held Prisoner of War, your back pay is higher than mine.”

 

* * *

 

 

Another three months passed in the blink of an eye.  Steve had devoted just as much time to helping Bucky as he had spent searching for Bucky.  Shrinks.  Neurologists.  Expert Prosthetics Designers.  Mutants with any kind of telepathic abilities.  It was a non-stop mission to get Bucky well and whole again.  One morning, close to Christmas, Steve woke to see Bucky sitting next to him, staring down at him while he slept.

 

They hadn’t shared a proper bed since 1942 and Bucky hadn’t watched Steve sleep since the morning before he fell from the train.  Steve woke up like a cat, stretching and yawning and making all sorts of delicious noises before his eyes would flutter open.  He did just that and then continued to blink at Bucky curiously.

 

  
“Why haven’t you called your girl?” Bucky demanded.  

 

“I don’t have a---Darcy?  She’s---she’s not my girl,” Steve stammered.

 

“Bullshit,” Bucky said plainly.  “You’re mucking it up.  Haven’t talked to her in weeks.”

 

“I’ve been busy,” Steve reminded him.  “With you.  Darcy knows that.  She’s been helping us find the the gears to fix up your arm.”

 

“You know what I mean,” Bucky gave him an unimpressed look.  

 

“I don’t,” Steve shook his head.

 

“You don’t got to give her up for me,” Bucky insisted.  

 

“I’m not giving anything up,” Steve argued.  Bucky’s put upon frown  was the same it had been back in 1941. When Steve would blatantly lie to him about feeling sick.  The only problem with Bucky being the closest to whole he was ever going to get was the fact that he could now read Steve better than anyone.  “Before I found out about you, yeah, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her for a date.  But things are different now, and she doesn’t need---”

 

“I may be nearly a hundred years old, but even I know you can’t go around deciding what a lady needs without consulting her first,” Bucky cut him off.  “Your ma woulda smacked your head and then my ma woulda given you the stink eye and then every one of my sisters woulda yelled at you till they were blue in the face.”

 

“Yeah, they woulda,” Steve nodded.  “Do you know what you’re asking for here, Buck?”

 

“A sweet dame to cuddle between the two of us?” Bucky smiled, slow and easy, like the Bucky of 1944, when they got two full weeks of leave in Paris and spent almost all of their hazard pay on finding fun time girls to cuddle and not just cuddle between the two of them.  “I like her.  She’s got moxie.  And she’s pretty as a picture and has curves that I want to walk my fingers over more than a few times.”

 

“Don’t know if she’s keen on that sort of thing,” Steve bit at his bottom lip in worry.  “She’s been busy lately too, you know.  Foster has her travelling three days out of the week on lectures.”

 

Bucky leaned in and pulled Steve’s lip away from his teeth before descending and soothing the pinched bottom lip with a soft kiss.  Steve could feel his stomach drop out to the floor at the exquisite feeling of Bucky’s chaste and loving kiss.  His mind was in overdrive, wondering if everything he could ever want was right at the tips of his fingers, ready for the taking.

  


“How were you fixing on asking her?” Bucky wondered when he pulled away.  “How’d you get sweet on her?”

 

“I---she buys things, she’s got a knack for finding things that you need,” Steve smiled.  “So I kept...needing things.  So I had a reason to talk to her.”

  
“Huh, interesting approach,” Bucky nodded.  He got out of the bed and went to Steve’s bedside table, metal fist coming out and busting the lamp that Darcy had found at a flea market for Steve nearly nine months ago.  “We need a new lamp.”


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being so nice with your response! I hope that you like the ending!

* * *

 

It started with a broken lamp.  

 

Then it was absolutely imperative to Bucky’s recovery that they get an old fashioned ice box.  

 

One day after she had delivered that, Steve and Bucky tracked her down in the tower to regretfully inform her that they had accidentally broken the couch when they had been horsing around.

 

If she had turned a little pink over the bridge of her nose at the mention of horsing around without their shirts off, well...Bucky insisted to Steve that it was a good sign.  

 

That same day, Steve said that he needed Valomilk bars because of a craving.  The boys had taken it as a good omen that Darcy had invited them along to the store where she found all of the Avenger’s sweet tooth cures.  

 

“I need all of this,” Bucky had declared with wide, nearly joyful eyes, grabbing huge bulk sized boxes of sugar babies and butter rum lifesavers.  

 

“You don’t need to buy that much, Steve tell him---” Darcy looked to Steve and laughed, because piled in his arms were bulk sized boxes of valomilk bars, tootsie pops and dark chocolate peanut chews.  “Okay, but you have to know that I’m going to be stealing half of those tootsie pops.”

 

“Chocolate ones are mine, sweetheart,” Steve warned her.

 

“That’s fine, I prefer cherry,” Darcy shrugged.

 

* * *

 

 

After their candy excursion, the boys knew they could figure out other ways to spend time with Darcy now.  Food.  

 

_How do we get those good little eclairs you got for the team’s game night last week?  Steve just ate the last one and I don’t want to kill him for it, babydoll.  I only just got deprogrammed to stop wanting to do that._

 

_Thor said you knew where to find the hottest hot sauce on the planet.  Bucky doesn’t believe you.  Help me prove him wrong, sweetheart, cause it’s one of the only reasons this old heart is still ticking._

 

_Steve says you know where cannoli is.  Where is cannoli and how much can I have?_

 

_What’s a chimichanga and why does Wade keep texting me about them?_

 

Between the two of them, they were spending every day that Darcy stayed at Avenger’s Tower with her.  

 

“Steve and Bucky go to White Castle,” Darcy snorted as she drove between them on the big bench seat in the pickup truck they had commandeered for the day.  

 

“Clint said it was important to try it once,” Steve shrugged.  

 

“We’ll watch the movie when we get home,” Darcy promised.  “I think you’re ready for that kind of stoner humor.”

 

“Your generation didn’t invent the stoner,” Bucky rolled his eyes at her.

 

“Keep up the sass, old timer, and I will not hesitate to tase you again,” Darcy smiled at him sweetly.  

 

“There are better ways to get me on my back, baby doll,” Bucky smirked at her in a very heated way, his arm winding around her shoulder and pulling her in close.

 

“Uhm,” Darcy blinked, looking back to Steve.  Steve who she was about ninety-nine percent sure was Bucky’s beloved and vice versa.  Steve only gave her a small smile before he brought a hand down and placed it on her thigh.  

 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, we broke our bed and need a new one,” Bucky revealed.

 

“What?” Darcy’s voice scaled upwards.

 

“We broke our bed and need a new one,” Bucky repeated.  He shrugged and repeated the phrase four more times in four different languages.

 

“Buck,” Steve admonished.

 

“That was a Thor tested bed.  He’s used that bed to bring Jane to the holy land many many times and he hasn’t broken it,” Darcy’s big blue eyes darted between the two of them in astonishment.  “How did you even---no, don’t.  I don’t want to know.”

 

“You sure about that, baby doll?” Bucky wondered as he took in the way the blue of her irises were nearly blotted out by her dilated pupils.  

 

“Uh huh,” Darcy breathed.

 

“And we need a bigger one too,” Steve said quickly.  

 

“A bigger bed than a California king?” Darcy asked owlishly.  “For Avenger’s sleepovers?”

 

“Nah, for a different kind of sleepover,” Bucky’s fingers were twirling strands of her hair, even as his bulk pressed her inwards towards the un-moveable wall that was Steve.  “Just one more.”

 

“Oh...oh!” Darcy nodded.  She had gotten a feeling off the boys that they were adventurous.  Especially since Bucky started being more _Bucky_ a few weeks ago.  “Okay...well, how big are we talking?  Like, are you adding a big boy like Thor to the mix, or a littler guy like Tony?”

 

“We don’t need any more guys,” Steve sighed.  “And just saying Tony’s name means that he probably will hear about this conversation somehow, and we’re gonna get razzed about it.”

 

“Oh... _oh_!” Darcy caught on again.  “So...a lady friend for fun boy times.  Well...despite my previous success with collaring Barnes here, I’m not really good at human trafficking, so you guys are going to have to track down that lucky lady yourself.  But I can find female friendly bed sheets.  Happy hint?  Don’t go with silk or satin.  Flannel sheets are the way to go.”

 

Bucky gave a look to Steve over Darcy’s head.  He really liked Darcy a lot, but she was either being really dense and unobservant at the moment or they were really bad at enticing a pretty girl.  He hoped it was that she was just being unobservant.  

 

Because they were going to find a way to entice her, come hell or high water.

 

* * *

 

At first, Bucky thought that he wanted to pursue Darcy just because Steve was sweet on her.  He would have sworn on a stack of bibles that it was all for Steve.  Darcy was great, and if she would have the both of them, Bucky would be plenty happy, because he loved Steve and Steve deserved all of the good things in life.  And Darcy was a good thing.  Bucky really didn't think he was capable of loving more than Steve though.  That love had been there before, strong and sure, and Hydra had surely burnt out all the ability in him to find love with anyone else.

 

He didn't know until about six weeks into continually breaking things in their apartment.  Steve was on a short mission with the bird-men (Clint and Wilson), and wasn't expecting to be back for another twenty-four hours at least.  Which gave Bucky plenty of time to mope around their apartment.  And also plenty of opportunity to break a few more things.

 

He was in the middle of jamming a screwdriver into the toaster oven when he heard a slight movement at the door.

 

"You're getting sloppy," he said without turning around.

 

"I'm not sloppy, I'm deliberate," Natasha replied.  "It's not a wise idea to surprise a deadly Russian assassin."

 

"You would know," Bucky smirked as he viciously stabbed at something important on the toaster.

 

Natasha hopped up on the reinforced kitchen stools that Darcy had recently purchased after the original set had mysteriously disintegrated.  She watched him intently as he found some success, and the special toaster that Darcy had found them began sparking and smoking.  

 

"There are better and less expensive ways to woo a woman, you used to be good at that," Natasha said calmly.

 

Bucky gave her a dubious look.  He certainly had never wooed Natasha.  Natasha was living proof that Bucky wasn't capable of loving someone new.  He had tried.  But they had been tortured and remolded time and time again, and while they found comfort and solace in one another, neither of them had found love.

 

"I saw the very stylish independent film from the nineties about yours and Steve's illicit romance in the 40's," Natasha shrugged.  "It did quite well on the independent film circuit but never found wider distribution.  The actor who played you was nominated for a Golden Globe.  He lost."

 

"Pity," Bucky shrugged.  He put the toaster and screwdriver down and looked at Natasha thoughtfully.  "You and I both know that what we were before is gone.  We're not those people anymore."

 

"No, we're not," Natasha agreed.  Her mouth quirked slightly to the right and she said very confidently, "I've come out better than I ever was before."

 

"I heard Wilson has no complaints," Bucky joked.

 

"He doesn't," Natasha insisted.  "It took a long while for him to convince me.  But it was worth it.  To know that I deserve him.  I deserve to find my happiness where I can."

 

"I have Steve," Bucky nodded.  "I have that happiness."

 

"Then why are you doing that?" Natasha wondered gesturing to the destruction he was trying to create.

 

Bucky looked up from where he was currently trying to destroy the supposedly indestructible coffee grinder.  

 

"For Steve," he answered simply.

 

"If that answer were close to being true, you and I would have a serious problem," Natasha told him in an almost cheerful tone.  "I quite like, Darcy.  She always finds me my favorite lipstick, even though it hasn't been manufactured since 1965. She is a good friend to me, and if you were pursuing her only to secure her for Steve's bed, I would have to find a way to stop you."

 

The cold, calm, serene tone in Natasha's words held a very real threat.  Bucky looked up at her with a healthy amount of trepidation.

 

"Steve won't pursue her unless I do too," Bucky shrugged.  "Punk's gotten greedy in his old age and wants his cake and wants to eat it too.  But really, he deserves---"

 

The blade that Natasha threw at him clipped his ear.  It said something for his recovery that he didn't launch himself on a counter attack.  He just looked up at her with wide, startled eyes, his mouth gaping open.

 

"Talk to me out of the other side of your mouth," Natasha encouraged.  

 

"I---I like her," Bucky admitted.  "Sweetest dame I've ever met in a hundred years of living."

 

Natasha twirled a blade in her hands and gave him the calm, serene look that many a interrogation victim had seen in the past.  

 

"Do better," she did a fancy little flip of the knife in her hands.

 

"Don't deserve it," Bucky shook his head.

 

"Our kill count is even," Natasha reminded him.  "Are you saying I don't deserve Wilson?  Or any happiness either?  I think that might offend me, if that's what you're saying, Barnes."

  


"I want to love her," Bucky whispered.  "Steve already does, I can tell.  He gets this soft look in his eyes whenever he's near her.  He looks at me that way too."

 

Bucky knew he didn't deserve Steve either.  Bucky knew that he was the paintbrush that was dipped into red, dripping murder and pain.  He was tainting all the good in Steve by clinging to him.

 

But trying to push him away would hurt Steve.  And if there was one thing he wanted to do with the time he had left on the planet, it was to NOT hurt Steve.  So he was stuck in this blissful torture.  Loving a man that he knew he didn't deserve.  

 

Why would he want to double that with Darcy?  It would be better to keep things light and superficial on his end.  Leave the love for Steve to have, because he deserved it.

 

"A small piece of advice?" Natasha wondered.

 

"Why not?" Bucky whispered.

 

"She will not want to be with the both of you, if she can't have all of you," Natasha said carefully.  

 

Bucky felt a cringe work through him.  That certainly put him between a rock and a hard place.  Everything in him wanted for Steve and Darcy to be happy.  What did a person do when another's happiness was tied so intrinsically to their own happiness?  He felt like he was trapped in a maze and the way out was right there, bright and shining and beckoning to him, but he was tethered in concrete of his own design, just out of reach.

  


"One other thing," Natasha was incredibly blithe now.

 

That was never a good sign.

 

Bucky swallowed in healthy trepidation and Natasha was almost gleeful.

 

"You have a lot of work to catch up on if you hope to convince her," she advised.  "Steve dragging his feet has her convinced that she is a platonic friend to you both.  And she is notoriously hard to convince otherwise.  Dust off those charms, you're going to need them."

  


* * *

 

  


Bucky was being strange.  

 

Well, he was a back from the dead, World War II prisoner of war and rehabilitated weapon for mass murder.  But still.  He was being strange.

 

Steve was due back later in the day, and Darcy was sitting in her office, trying to track down a specific band t-shirt for Tony.  He said he had been to a concert once in the early 90's and had said the band name was Donkey Punch Bowl and that he absolutely had to find that t-shirt from the concert.  Darcy was fairly certain he was making things up just to keep her busy.  He tended to send her on wild missions whenever Steve had a mission of his own.

 

She worried about all of her friends when they were out in the world, protecting it.  But she worried about Steve especially.  

 

He was a wonderful friend, after all.

 

And he had Bucky.  And if something happened to Steve, then what happened to Bucky?

 

So she may have fretted a little more when Steve was out. And there were no other reasons for it besides that.  Or at least that is what she kept repeating to herself.  And Natasha.

 

Deep, deep down, behind a small, intricately locked door in her heart, where she had always stored her greatest secrets, was the truth.  When she was five, she had locked away that little wish and desire of every kid in foster care, that one day, her parents would show up magically, spouting apologies and saying it had been a mistake and they loved her so much and they were going to live happily every after.

 

When she was thirteen, she had locked away the dream of being blissfully normal.  Her bust had popped out overnight and over the course of a few months, the body that had once been stick straight up and down suddenly started morphing into an hourglass that had grown men staring at her in interest.  And women of all ages glaring at her as if she had done something wrong.  At school, she was not only the outcast foster kid who liked to make mix cd's with impossible combinations of bands and artists, now she was a whore.  Even if she had always been the furtherest thing from a whore.

 

When she was twenty-four, she locked away the barely breathing little feeling she had started to nurture for a young man out of time, who called her frequently and kept breaking things.  She had been brave for him once.  Not the false bravado of irreverence and witticisms she wore like a finely polished set of armor, day in and day out.  She'd smiled at him and suggested going out for dinner on one of his brief frequent visits to New York before the fall of Shield.  He'd smiled back at her and said of course.

 

'It'll be nice to spend time with a friend for once.'

 

Yes.  She was his friend.  And she put an extra lock on that little door in her heart on everything else  she felt for him.  

 

She was going to be the greatest friend she ever could.  And when Bucky showed up, then Darcy understood.  That was what Thor had meant by a triad match.  She was meant to be close to them, but only in a platonic way.  And she resolved to be the best friend she could to Bucky as well.

 

Which was why, at 10:45 AM, she was concerned that Bucky was acting strangely.  He'd stalked by her office door in the Tower no fewer than nine times in the last hour.  Like he was on patrol or something.  

 

A text message came in and upon seeing it she clapped her hands together excitedly.  Finally, some good news.

 

She ran into Bucky on her way out, she was a woman on a mission, and definitely had a time limit at that point.  

 

"Where're you goin?" Bucky mumbled, looking at her in confusion as she wrapped a too long, too soft speckled blue scarf around her neck a few times.  

 

"Gotta hot tip on some good merchandise," Darcy made a clicking noise as she shot a finger gun his way.  "See you later, Buck!"

 

"Wait---I," Bucky began to say, but it was too late, the elevator door had closed.  He had been working up the courage to talk to her all morning.  And he had utterly failed.

 

"I'd follow her if I were you," came a voice from an office a little further down the hall.  The big office.  Pepper Potts tilted her head out of her doorway.  "Darcy is notoriously terrible at not telling the security detail where she's going.  She says she can't have the white hats following her into dragon's lairs to get her finery."

 

"She goes out without security?" Bucky looked horrified and he instantly hit the button for the elevator.  "What in the hell is she thinking?"

 

Pepper gave him a small, knowing smile and sighed.

 

"That's she's not important enough to worry about."

 

Bucky's look of horror magnified and Pepper nodded in understanding.  She gave him an encouraging look and said, "You and Steve should convince her otherwise."

 

* * *

 

Darcy was not the easiest person to track down, as it turned out.

 

Either she was prodigiously talented at evasion, or Bucky was losing his skill set as he lost more and more of the Winter Soldier.  But she had had a five minute head start on him in the city, and when he hit the street, there was no sign of her, even the security guard at the entrance had shrugged helplessly, while bravely not wetting his pants in front of Bucky's very unhappy face.  

 

He made a preliminary walk around the courtyard across the street from Stark Towers, hoping to gain some glimpse of her scarf or curling brown hair.  The phone that Stark had shoved at him a week after meeting at him set off a gentle ringing tone and he brought it up to his face.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Sergeant Barnes, if I may offer some advice?" JARVIS asked in his typically polite tone.  "Ms. Romanoff has many different tracking devices on Miss Lewis.  It would appear that Darcy has not managed to disable one of them as of yet."

 

"Can you show me on the phone?" Bucky wondered.  He still felt a little thrill inside whenever he talked to the robot that Stark had made.  It felt like he was dropped in the middle of one of his five cent science fiction novels that he had bought by the pound back in the day.

 

"Absolutely," JARVIS promised.

 

Bucky saw Darcy's little beacon on the map, JARVIS, the cheeky, sentient bastard, had used a little red heart to show her zooming away from Stark Tower.  Bucky followed her path and realized she had popped onto the subway.  He turned around and ran towards the garage of the tower, grabbing Steve's bike and one of the smaller helmets before taking off.

 

Her beacon came to a stop in Queens, and was much slower now, meaning she was on foot and Bucky may have busted a few traffic laws in order to catch up to her.  He had hoped to be silent and watch her from afar for a little, but Steve's motorcycle had other plans, obviously.  The loud and obnoxious engine announced his arrival in the quiet, sun drenched street, full of little shops, a little coffee shop and two hole in the wall restaurants that were cooking up a storm prior to the lunch rush.

 

Darcy walked out of one of the little shops, the one that looked like it was literally just a door that opened into a dark little closet, with no name above it whatsoever.  She looked at Bucky curiously as he sat astride the bike, staring at her with an unreadable expression.

 

"Is everything alright?" she wondered.  "Are we under attack or something?  Did you get stuck on Darcy duty?"

 

"Babydoll, what are you on about?" Bucky shook his head at her as she walked up to the motorcycle.  

 

"Why are you here?" Darcy wondered.

 

"Just wanted to spend some time with you," Bucky huffed out.

 

Darcy pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose at the same time.  That didn't seem like a very likely scenario.  Bucky was staring at her like she was a particularly difficult puzzle, but his mouth was curved downwards in a sullen little line. Steve had been gone frequently in the last week.  It had been a busy week for the world's lamest super villains, and while he was never gone for long, he was still gone.  Darcy figured that Bucky was lonely and missing Steve but was too stoic and stubborn to admit it.

 

"Want to watch me go haggle with an old Chinese woman about the cost of black market tiger balm that Clint needs?" Darcy offered  with a gap toothed grin.  

 

"Sounds fun," Bucky gave her a small smile of his own.  "What'd you need in that store, anyway?"

 

"Top secret, Buckmeister," Darcy winked at him.  

 

Bucky's stomach suddenly growled over the sound of the bike's engine, which was a considerable feat.  Darcy's eyebrows went upwards and she reached over and turned off the bike before grabbing For Bucky's left forearm, pretending to yank as hard as she could to get him off the bike.

 

"How do you feel about pastelillos? Because I think that you and they will be great friends."

 

* * *

 

  


"Rogers, why is your boyfriend using my AI to stalk Darcy?"

 

Steve looked up at Tony's face on the holographic panel that Sam had been previously playing video games on during their short flight back home after a short and nearly unnecessary mission.  Steve felt a pull against his center of gravity as Clint very quickly began pushing the quinjet to its limits to get back to New York.

 

"What do you mean, stalking?" Sam furrowed his brow.  He didn't appreciate his fruit ninja game being interrupted so rudely.  Also, he didn't like Tony's tone.

 

In Sam's opinion, the only person who was allowed to be so rude about Barnes was either Natasha or Sam himself.  

 

"He's using his phone for the first time that didn't involve booty calls from Cap, and it's the tracking system.  Darcy's tracker," Tony announced.  "I'm in Japan, I can't get there quick enough."

  


"Sir, if I may---"

 

"Not now, JARVIS," Tony waved him off and then promptly muted him.

 

"Where's Nat?" Clint demanded.  It's not like he didn't trust Bucky.  He and Bucky had managed to spend quite a few hours in the shooting range together in the last three months.  He trusted Bucky Barnes with HIS life.  But he trusted the Winter Soldier with nothing, especially not Darcy.  And Bucky Barnes wouldn't know how to turn on the tracker program on the phone.  The Winter Soldier...yeah, he pushed the quinjet harder.  "We're in New York in half an hour, send me their coordinates."

 

"Nat’'s undercover," Sam reminded him.  "Not an option."

 

"He wouldn't hurt her," Steve said resolutely.  "Bucky likes Darcy a lot."

 

"Bucky does," Sam nodded.  "But Steve..."

 

"No, his triggers are worked out," Steve shook his head, trying very hard not to let his teammates’ worry affect him.  But he had the luxury of knowledge, knowing that he and Bucky LIKED Darcy, and that if he was tracking her down, it was probably just to spend some time with her.

 

"Her taser has been deployed," Tony announced.  "Half a minute ago."

 

"Clint," Steve stood up and grabbed for his shield.  "Get there faster."

  


* * *

 

  


Bucky gave Darcy an unimpressed look.  

 

They had wandered from the little bodega where they had acquired the seriously delicious little pockets of food, Darcy grabbing a few to place in the mysterious bag because Bucky had said that Steve would like them.  Bucky had watched her haggle expertly in a combination of very bad Chinese and overly exaggerated miming.  Darcy hadn't won, but the old woman had patted her on the head and told her that she was getting better and soon she'd take her to a real market.  

 

From there, she had to pick up a present for Jane's upcoming birthday.  And while Bucky had thought they'd be going back to the bike and heading to some fancy shop in Manhattan, instead, she pulled him into a little, old corner arcade, full of old fashioned (to her) games.  

 

She needed to win 1,000 more tickets and she'd be able to get Jane the present.  An old board game that was collecting dust on the shelf with a 20,000 ticket price tag on it.  Bucky had figured the surest way to get the 1,000 tickets was allowing him to play the whack-a-mole game.  He had tried skeeball, but it was very clear by the dent he had made in the game, that a different game was necessary.  

 

But then he had whacked a mole a little too enthusiastically, and the game had mysteriously lost power, just as he was about to get an all new high score.

 

"Oh, that happens, I know how to fix it, stand back," Darcy advised, pulling out her taser and letting loose on the machine.  It buzzed back to life and Bucky pounded the little machine once more.

 

"You really do electrocute whatever you want, don't you?" Bucky smirked at her.

 

"Only the good things in life, like whack-a-mole and handsome fellas from the 1940's," Darcy grinned impishly at him.  Her grin faded when he gave her what could only be interpreted as bedroom eyes.  His expression went soft and warm, his mouth puckering just so as he looked down at her with heavy lidded eyes.  She felt a tickling against her ankle and looked down, giving a grin at the long line of tickets spewing from the machine.  "Awesome, we should be good on Janie, but I have, like, an hour to get to Sadie's for Natasha's kugel."

 

Bucky sighed watching as Darcy grabbed her tickets and ran up to the counter, before going to her bag and grabbing out another gallon sized plastic bag out with thousands of tiny tickets in it as well.  Half an hour later, when every last ticket had been accounted for, Darcy held her prize above her head as they walked down the street, each of them sucking on a cherry lollipop that might have been as old as Darcy, at least.

 

"It'll be exciting to ride on the bike," Darcy beamed up at him.  "Ever since I found it for him, I've been wanting to feel the wind in my hair."

 

"Baby doll, I'm sure all you had to do was ask, and Steve would have taken you to the moon and back," Bucky promised her.  She gave him that look.  The one where he knew she wasn't taking his words seriously.  The one he wished he could kiss right off of her.  "Darcy, you do know that, Steve is...he's---"

 

Whatever Steve WAS, he was now also barrelling down the street, in full Captain America uniform, shield in hand.  Bucky looked up and saw the quinjet hovering over the tallest apartment building a block down, and he could see Clint perched and ready to take aim.  Bucky gave Steve a befuddled look.

 

"Oh, hey, Steve!" Darcy said cheerfully enough.  The look on Steve's face was confusing.  He looked worried and anxious and then very suddenly ANGRY.  Darcy and Bucky both had no way of knowing that Steve was mad at Tony, for making him doubt Bucky's intentions for one second.  Darcy, for one, thought that Steve was angry that she and Bucky had essentially gone out on a very date like excursion.  She began talking very quickly, all the while, taking small steps away from both men. "Bucky was helping me on my errands.  I'm so glad you're back and everything went well.  Did everything go well? Oh, crap, I gotta go. Sadie said she wasn't gonna save the kugel for me anymore after that whole thing with the whose-a-mah-whats-it.  BYE!"

 

"Darcy!" Steve called out, but it was too late, she had turned and bolted for the subway entrance, flying down the stairs.  He turned a sheepish look Bucky's way.

 

"Good job, there, punk," Bucky huffed out before stomping towards the motorcycle, he grabbed the small helmet and tossed it to Steve.  "You coming, or what?"

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky was seriously pissed.  Both Pepper and JARVIS had already told him that they were going to handle Tony's meddling on their own.  JARVIS seemed especially peeved that Tony hadn't wanted to listen to JARVIS' explanation.  

 

Bucky was sullenly sitting on Steve's large and plush leather couch that Darcy had assured them had been reinforced with other worldly material to make sure that no matter how much they horsed around, it wouldn't break.  Steve was pacing the room, anxious to an obnoxious degree.  

 

"I didn't believe them, really," Steve had promised.  "But I was curious."

 

"Sure you were," Bucky rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.

 

Steve stopped pacing for a moment and asked, "Did you at least have a nice time with her?"

 

"Oh no, it was awful," Bucky gave Steve a withering look.  "Worst time of my life, really."

 

Steve chuckled and sat down next to Bucky finally.  "She's a handful, isn't she?  Bet you couldn't wait to be rid of her."

 

"You rescued me, really.  If I had to spend one more minute staring at that face, I don't know what I woulda done," Bucky flicked a finger at Steve's ear.  "Don't know what I would have done without you and the bird brigade and stupid, fucking, Stark.  I mean, the things I do to get you a lady in your bed, Stevie."

 

An odd squeaking noise at the front door had both super soldiers up and off the couch in a flash.  They opened the door and sitting on the doorstep was the little brown paper bag full of pastellilos as well as a tupperware container full of kugel.  

 

"My apologies, gentlemen," JARVIS announced.  "You had previously given Darcy permission to enter at her will."

 

"Where did she run off to?" Steve asked, feeling a funny, strangled feeling fluttering through his stomach.

 

"...I am not at liberty to say," JARVIS sounded incredibly apologetic.

 

"Did she hear us talking?" Bucky nearly whispered.  

 

"I believe that to be true," JARVIS confirmed.  

 

"Shit," Bucky cursed.  He gave Steve a wild and desperate look.  "Shit, Stevie, what now?"

  


* * *

 

  


As it turned out, Darcy was exceptionally good at avoiding them.  It was as if she no longer lived and worked at the Tower.  She was always out of her little office whenever either of them stopped by.  JARVIS would always tell them that she wasn't in her quarters either.  Pepper was constantly giving them betrayed looks.  And Jane had threatened to send them to an alternate hell dimension.

 

On day three of Darcy's absence, Steve received a text message from an unknown number. Coordinates only.  

 

Natasha, of course.

 

Bucky didn't need much convincing to go along with Steve on a quinjet.  The coordinates were for a little town in Connecticut, and when they landed, they knew that they were there for Darcy.  It was a giant flea market with thousands of vendors.  Wordlessly, Bucky and Steve split up, aiming to cover more ground and find her.

 

It had been easy, really, to follow the sound of gunfire.

 

Steve dove behind an upended table to find Darcy sitting there, looking down at her spent taser and the panic button she had pressed.  She looked up at him astonishment and said,

 

"Holy crap, that was fast!"

 

Bucky rolled to where they were, bringing out his own set of impressive guns and taking aim.

 

"What are we looking at here, sweetheart?" Steve wondered.

 

"Uhm, some bad guy?" Darcy offered helpfully, obviously lying.

 

Bucky gave her an impatient little look and she squirmed.  Steve reached out and held her hand tightly in his own and she turned red in the face.

 

"Okay, so three months ago, some guy came up and offered me a job tracking down mysterious items and I said no thanks, I already have an awesome job I love," Darcy explained.  "But then he wouldn't take no for an answer.  I think he's with AIM."

 

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Bucky demanded.

 

"Cause I'm STUPID, okay?" Darcy yanked her hand out of Steve's.  She glared at the both of them.  "Because I'm a handful, apparently and it's a pain to be around me!"

 

"Babydoll, I---"

 

"Save it!" Darcy glared at him before hopping to her feet and rushing away.

 

"Darcy!" Steve called out, jumping up as well and tackling her to the ground.

 

"Ow," she whimpered.

 

"What are you thinking, Darcy, do you want to get shot?" Steve breathed in her ear.  She was shivering beneath him, crying in earnest.  He placed his lips on her temple and said, "Sweetheart, this is all a big misunderstanding, I promise you."

 

Meanwhile, Bucky had had enough.  He stood up and made quick work of the remaining shooters.  Then he turned and yanked Steve by the back of his collar up and off the ground.  But Steve had his arms wrapped around Darcy, and both of them came up, with Steve clinging to Darcy, her feet dangling a good foot off of the ground.  Steve looked distraught and Darcy looked _heartbroken_.  It was enough to make Bucky want to give up the whole notion of securing Darcy's heart to share between the two of them.

 

"We like you.  A lot," Bucky said bluntly, borrowing some of that Russian stoicism that had been electrocuted into him.  

 

"Nuh uh," Darcy disputed, with no small amount of childish impudence.

 

"I'm over the moon for you," Bucky insisted, then pointed an accusatory finger at Steve.  "This punk's been busting things for almost two years now cause he just wanted to talk to you for a few seconds every damned day."

 

Darcy opened her mouth to dispute with him further, but Steve's arms tightened around her and he placed another gentle kiss to the side of her temple.

 

"S'true," he whispered against her skin.  "You mean the world to me, sweetheart."

 

"But...you two," Darcy gaped at them like a fish.

 

"See, in these progressive times, it's called polyamorous," Bucky deadpanned. He was walking steadily towards them, until he was standing less than half a foot away, his right hand going out to run up and down Darcy's arm in a soothing gesture.  He gave her a sly little smirk and said, "Back during the war, Dum-Dum called us greedy more than a couple of times."

 

"He also got tied to a flag pole upside down for saying it," Steve chuckled lowly before placing another kiss to Darcy's temple.  

 

"You said that spending time with me was awful," Darcy accused of Bucky.  "And you said it was just to get me in bed with Steve."

 

"Babydoll, did you ever hear about a little something called sarcasm?" Bucky leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips, because she was looking so adorably perplexed by all of it.  It would have been a crime to not kiss the dame at that point.

 

"Noooooooooooooooo," Darcy rolled her eyes.  "I'm Darcy Lewis, I have noooooo idea what sarcasm is, is it a place?  Sounds like a vacation destination where you take a long walk off of a short cliff."

 

Steve's chest was on her back and she felt his chuckle rumble through him.  The police were starting to arrive at the flea market, and she didn't really want to give her statement with a super soldier practically pressed to her front and back end.  

 

"I should have been braver," Steve sighed.  "Asked you out proper all that time ago instead of the stupid coffee conversation."

 

"Spending time with you is a damned delight," Bucky said resolutely.  "Ask what I did to Stark for bringing an early end to our day together?"

 

"What'd you do to Tony?" Darcy asked warily.

 

"Whack-a-mole, babydoll," Bucky grinned.  "Trapped him in a big ole box in the training room and every time that head came up, either me, Pepper or Happy would whack him."

 

Darcy couldn't help it.  She began cackling with laughter, her body convulsing in Steve's arms.  The idea of Tony's goateed face popping out of a hole in a box then panicking as someone brought a foam mallet down on his head was too much.  Bucky watched her laugh for a full minute before he turned and saw the cops approaching.

 

"Best to put her down, Stevie," he sighed.  "Let's get this over with. Put on your Captain America show smile, so I don't get taken in for protecting our girl."

 

"Sure thing, Buck," Steve nodded.  He put Darcy down, then had a thought, turning her gently and re-wrapping his arms around her.  He looked down at her with a little, wicked half smile that made Darcy blush.  "Just to clear all the misunderstandings.  Bucky and I love to spend time with you.  We think you're amazing.  We'd like to spend more time with you."

 

"Oh," Darcy whispered.  "That sounds nice."

 

"Also, Bucky wasn't being entirely sarcastic," Steve clarified.  "I do want you in my bed.  Right between me and him.  Does that sound like something you might want someday too, sweetheart?"

 

"Uh huh," Darcy swore she could feel her soul leaking out of her ears and drifting upwards towards the atmosphere.    
  


Bucky surveyed the glassed out look in her eyes and he hit Steve on the back of the head.

 

"How's she gonna get interviewed by the cops like that, you scrambled her brains!"

 

* * *

 

 

They had been lucky.  Natasha had appeared out of nowhere and had intercepted the authorities, allowing Bucky and Steve to make a clean getaway with Darcy tucked tightly between them.  

 

"Cabin," Steve advised Bucky as they fired up the quinjet engines.  He looked down at Darcy, who was slowly blinking out of her shocked haze.  "Want to take a long weekend with us, Darcy?  You should see the cabin.  You furnished it without ever stepping foot in it."

 

"Okay," Darcy nodded.  She gave Steve a curious look before blurting, "Why do you like me?"

 

"What's not to like?" Bucky called out from the cockpit.

 

"You're funny and clever and beautiful," Steve answered easily.

 

"What d'ya like about me?" Bucky wondered.

 

"You're hot," Darcy deadpanned.

 

"Not gonna argue there," Steve chuckled.  He watched as Darcy yawned, long and loud.  She definitely looked tired.  "Sweetheart, rest your eyes for a little.  We promise not to do anything exciting while you nap."

 

"Cause Steve never does anything exciting," Bucky teased.  "You'll find out soon enough, babydoll."

 

Steve took off his jacket and wrapped it around Darcy's shoulders, leaving a lingering kiss on her forehead before he walked towards the cockpit with Bucky.  Darcy WAS tired, but she couldn't bring herself to fall asleep completely.  She shut her eyes, but her mind was racing.  
  


They liked her.  

 

They wanted her there.  Between them.

 

It was a lot to process all at once.  It was especially difficult, because despite how often Natasha or Pepper would attempt to broach the subject of the super soldier's intentions towards her in the last few months, she had always been super resistant to even considering the idea.  It was ludicrous to think about.  

 

But they had been very clear.  They liked her.  They wanted her.

 

As overwhelmed as she was by the whole thing, she had a stinging moment of annoyance.  Pepper and Natasha were going to be so superior and smug about the whole damned thing.

 

* * *

 

 

"I am NOT eating roadkill," Darcy set her hands on her hips, looking absolutely breathtaking in her anger.  Steve's flannel shirt swamping her plush little body wasn't too bad either.

 

"Tastes just like chicken, babydoll," Bucky promised.

 

"Better than chicken," Steve's lips were pressed in a crooked line as he and Bucky both tried to poke at the angry little bear in front of them.  "A fat squirrel from the woods is like nature's steak."

 

"NO, you know what's nature's steak?" Darcy questioned.  "STEAK."

 

"Maine isn't really known for it's bovine creatures," Bucky told her cheekily.

 

Darcy leveled an eyebrow at him.  It was nice to see that romantic overtures aside, they all still fell into the roles they had been in prior to declaring intentions.  Steve was a troll.  Bucky was a wise-acre.  And Darcy was a shit-stirrer.  It all worked out very nicely, really.

 

"I'll be right back," she announced gaily before running back into the cabin that really was, a lovely place to spend time in.  She'd done a good job in setting the place up for him, old timey lantern and all.

 

Twenty minutes went by before Steve stopped his machinations with the wires he had been teasing Darcy with.  He had no intention to let their girl eat squirrel.  He had a couple of chickens in the chest freezer in the garage that he'd set out to thaw and was going to put together the 1940's equivalent to the steak dinner.  Except nothing would be boiled, obviously.

 

"What do you think she's doing in there?" Bucky wondered.  

 

They'd all fallen asleep in separate bedrooms the night before.  Even Bucky and Steve, as they wanted to place Darcy on even footing with them in the beautiful new relationship that she had softly said yes to when she had woken up on the quinjet twenty-four hours ago.

 

"Lady stuff?" Steve wondered hopefully.  Bucky gave him a shake of his head.  Steve sighed.  "Let's see if JARVIS can track her."

 

"No need to lojack me boys!" Darcy called out cheerfully as she walked back towards the cabin.  She heaved a very bulky and unwieldy paper wrapped package over her shoulder and made a noise of exertion as she placed it in Bucky's arms.  "Bovine.  Maine born and bred.  Don't test me, Buckster."

 

Steve laughed at the look on Bucky's face before he threw an arm around Darcy's shoulders and pulled her in close, waltzing back towards the cabin and leaving Bucky to deal with picking up the beef and bringing it in.

 

"You're a one hell of a dame, Darcy Lewis!" Bucky called out.

 

Steve stopped at the doorway and bent Darcy backwards in his arms, placing a bruising kiss on her lips that threatened to steal away any brain cells that were not vital for kissing.  He pulled away and beamed from ear to ear.

 

"You're damn right she is."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my main procrastination point with posting this is because once the set up was done, I had a lot of doubts on whether I was doing the whole polyamorous triad thing right. I wanted it to feel equal all the way around, because I think these three characters could actually achieve that believably, you know, in more ways that the bedroom. 
> 
> So I hemmed and hawwed about it because I was worried. But then I got sick of being worried and just decided to post it!
> 
> And you will notice that this doesn't seem like much of an ending. That's because I have some plans. Anything added to THIS story would be fluffy little scenes of the continued courtship of Darcy Lewis (hopefully less strange and less expensive). But then...then I might have something different planned for later, when I find more time to have another WIP. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


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